


Ficlets

by PandaPez



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaPez/pseuds/PandaPez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Mass Effect drabbles. Mostly Shakarian, and expect spoilers for all three games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbyes

The first time they say goodbye, it's with smiles and mandibles pulled tight by duty.

' _You sure you don't want to come with me?'_ she asks one last time, both of them hoping  _this_  time will be the one to change his mind, even while both of them know it won't. He rolls his eyes – out of exasperation, he tells himself, and not to keep her from seeing the longing in them. Because there  _is_ no longing. Because, even if there were, there's definitely no reason to it - no logic that could excuse the tugging that begs him to follow after this human he barely knows to ends of the galaxy and back.

So instead all he does is say, ' _Chellick would have my hide.'_ Then he flicks his mandibles and adds,  _'Besides, I want to give this another go. See if I can do things right this time.'_

She smiles at that, and the confidence in her eyes when she says, ' _You'll be detective of the month in no time.'_ makes him almost believe it himself. She sticks out her hand then, and he follows her lead. ' _Give em hell, Vakarian.'_ she says as they shake hands for the last time.

' _You too, Commander.' he answers, and then she's gone._

The second time they say goodbye, it's with cheeks and fringe cold with dread.

' _You sure you don't want me to come with you?'_  he asks one last time, both of them hoping  _this_ time the answer won't shove reality between them, even while both of them know it will. She shakes her head – as a reply, she tells herself, and not to keep him from seeing the worry in her eyes. Because there  _is_ worry. Because, even if there wasn't, there's definitely reason for it – for the fear that convinces her that parting is the only way to somehow save both the galaxy and him.

So instead all she does is say, ' _Hackett would have my ass.'_ Then she smiles and adds, ' _Besides, they'll need you on Palaven. Someone needs to set things right.'_

He laughs at that, and the doubt in his voice when he says, ' _I'll have the fleet mobilized in a month.'_ makes her believe in him all the more. He reaches his hand out then, and she follows his lead. ' _Give em hell, Shepard.'_ he says as they hold hands for the last time.

' _You too, Garrus.' she answers, and then he's gone._

The last time they say goodbye, it's with skin and hide bloody with denial.

' _I'm coming with you.'_ he says one more time, both of them hoping  _this_ time won't be the last, even while both of them know it is. They stare at each other's face – like always, they tell themselves, and not because it's their last chance. Because it  _is_ their last chance. Because, no matter what, this is it – the moment that tells them this is the end of either the galaxy or them.

So instead all she does is say, ' _No matter what happens here, you know I love you.'_ Then she takes a step closer and adds,  _'And I always will.'_

He breaks at that, and the defiance in his words when he says, ' _I love you too.'_ makes them both believe in each other against it all. They reach out their hands then, following each other's leads. There are no more words as they touch for the last time.

And then she's gone.


	2. Kiss Meme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for kiss meme over on tumblr, and the prompt asked for a firm kiss, a jawline kiss, and/or a goofy kiss.

Garrus had never been one for protocols. He'd always favored action instead, or 'seizing the moment' as the humans said it. He didn't have the time or the patience to be held back by rules or regulations or standard procedures. Truthfully, he'd never really had much use for such things anyway, not when they only slowed him down. After all, for most of his life, Garrus Vakarian had always been able to handle whatever the universe had thrown at him.

But as he stood there in Shepard's cabin, one of his hands trailing carefully down her shoulder, Garrus found himself wishing for nothing more than some kind of 'standard procedure' that would tell him what to do next.

Sure, he'd done his research. He'd read the articles on human-turian physiology compatibility, had spent hour after hour watching vid after vid on human courtship and mating rituals, had carefully gone over every page of  _Mordin's Medical Manuel for Inter-Species Intercourse_. Hell, one night, after taking several shots of Zaeed's homemade 'moonshine' – whatever that was – Garrus had even asked Joker for a few of his own recommendations for 'study materials', so to speak.

It had taken weeks for Garrus to forget some of the things he'd seen on those sites.

And what good had any of it done him? Where were all those clever pick-up lines and anatomical explanations now when he needed them most? Now that he was finally here - could actually  _feel_  the warmth of Shepard's skin pressed against his as she held his hand in her own - all of his research seemed so useless. So  _wrong._ He had no idea where to go from here. He'd spent so long preparing, planning, and yet in the end none of it was going righ-

"Garrus?"

He blinked. "Yeah?"

"This is the part where you kiss the girl." Shepard said, the gentle words teasing her lips up into one of  _those_ smiles, the curved one that made his mandibles flick and his mind stutter.

Kissing. Yes. He remembered that. It was when humans pressed their mouths together. Garrus could do that.

"Right," he said, steeling himself. He leaned forward, but then hesitated as he tried to decide where to put his hands. One was already holding Shepard's, so that would work, but what about the other one? Her waist, maybe? Or would she think that was too forward? Maybe her shoulder would be- No, her waist, he decided. He'd put it on her waist.

His resolve thus affirmed, Garrus prepared to make his move. His arm rose, its targeted destination in sight, and, just as it was about to make contact, he began once again to bend his head down closer to hers. At precisely that same moment, however, Shepard let out a soft, exasperated huff and then, before he knew it, she leaned upwards and pressed her mouth firmly against his.

Or more accurately, he realized as he inhaled with surprise and unexpectedly met resistance, she had pressed her mouth firmly against his nose.

Shepard's eyes widened – in shock? Embarrassment? – when she realized her mistake, the discovery no doubt sped along by the strange, sucking sensation on her lips that resulted from his attempt at breathing. She pulled back with a chuckle that was more breath than laugh, and the little hairs that framed her eyes danced as she blinked repeatedly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sorry," they both said in union, then stopped.

Garrus looked down, feeling his mandibles pull tight against his face, then glanced back up as he said, "I shouldn't have done that. I mean," – he corrected when one of her eyebrows rose the way it did when she was confused– "that was my fault. I moved in when you did and that's why we, ah…well." He gestured vaguely,  _hopelessly_ , with his free hand.

Shepard laughed, a real one this time, and he felt her hand squeeze his own. "No, that was my fault, really," she reassured him. "Normally when a girl kisses a boy she doesn't try to suffocate him at the same time."

"Good to know," Garrus said, his stiff muscles somehow relaxing despite themselves at her familiar, teasing tone. His mandibles even flicked with amusement. "I could see how that might make things difficult in the long run."

"Oh you've no idea." Shepard answered, her eyes glittering with sincerity. She stepped closer. "We human women really can be quite dangerous sometimes."

"Really?" he asked. She was so close now that, if he had the time, he could have counted the multitude of small dots that were scattered across her face like tiny, dark stars. Garrus noticed that she even had a few on her lips. He watched them with fascination as she spoke.

"Very." she answered, her voice soft and warm when it brushed across his face. He breathed in deep.

"Hmm. So you say." Garrus said, his own voice a shade deeper. Instinctively, easily, he placed both his hands just above Shepard's hips and slowly pulled her closer. "But then again you humans are always saying things."

Shepard's eyes narrowed, and he felt his own do the same as he watched that familiar, slow smile curve her mouth upwards. "Are you doubting me, Vakarian?" she asked, wrapping her hands behind his neck in order to tug his head down nearer to her own.

"The great Commander Shepard? Never." he murmured as he stared into her eyes.

"Uh huh." she said, and then she reached up and pressed her lips against his scarred mandible. The soft sensation was both strange and seductive, and it sent shivers of feeling across hisnumbed hide, hide that he'd long ago given up on. "I think it's time you found out just how dangerous we human females really are, Garrus." she continued, puncturing every other word with another trailing kiss.

"Well, if you insist..." Garrus answered, feeling his body tighten with a completely different tension than it had earlier. He pulled Shepard closer.

After all, Garrus Vakarian always  _had_  preferred actions over words.


	3. Aboard a Shakarian Ship

Kasumi’s the first to notice it, though that’s hardly a surprise. People see the thief and think all she’s interested in is their credit chits and bank accounts, but Kasumi’s been in this business long enough to know that 10 out of 10 times it’s the secrets that are the most valuable thing, worth far more than any painting or pretty bauble. “Word on the ship is Garrus really likes you,” she whispers to Shepard one day. She never says she’s the one who put it there.

Miranda ferrets it out next. The ship’s business is  _her_ business, after all, and so when the ship’s captain begins fraternizing with one of the crew members it’s not long before Miranda’s got every single side-long glance or late night ‘strategy session’ between the two catalogued and compiled into one neat report – a report she deletes soon after the Omega Relay, along with whatever loyalty to Cerberus she had left.

Turians are goddamn hard to read, but Zaeed’s killed enough of them to know the basics by now. Love’s not all that different from terror, really, and seeing the way that kid stares at Shepard makes him miss Jessie all over again.  _Goddamn fine girl, that gun,_ he thinks as he watches the two of them trade looks more loaded than any rifle.

Thane recognizes it through the barrel of a sniper rifle, unsure at first if the  _siha_  between the target and the gun is real or memory. But no, this is a new warrior-angel standing tall in the eye of the scope, and a new disconnected soul being awoken from his battlesleep by the fire in her eyes. Thane smiles, watching as history replays itself before him in an all new way.

The unit referred to as “Legion” acknowledges but does not fully comprehend the development between Shepard-Commander and Garrus Vakarian. Data available on such behavior between opposing species is limited, and a consensus regarding approval or disapproval cannot be attained. However, knowledge of historical organic mating inclinations in general suggests that relationships with similar parameters have high probabilities of resulting in emotional and physical well-being for both participants. 

Grunt may be fresh out of the tank, but he’s not  _stupid._ He doesn’t know what his Battlemaster sees in the turian – a damn _turian_ of all things– but he doesn’t really care either. Vakarian’s a part of her clan, and Grunt knows that the turian can carry his weight in battle. That’s all that matters as far as the krogan’s concerned.

Samara has had many lovers, and though centuries have passed since the last she still remembers the words of passion almost as well as she does those of the Code. They are subtle, heard in the corner of a shy smile or in the movements of nervous hands, and so easily missed, but they  _are_  there, and Samara smiles for the two who have found joy amidst so much darkness.

Mordin, of course, deduces it almost before it happens. Intense physical attraction always a logical explanation for such symptoms: mutually elevated heart-rates when in close proximity, increased blood flow to facial regions, resulting in a flush-like tinting for humans and sporadic mandible twitches for turians – all basic chemical reactions, really. Still, nice to see. Helps remind him what they’re fighting for, that there’s more to life than the big pictures.

Jack doesn’t give two fucks about who Shepard fucks, so when that person turns out to be some spikey ass alien all Jack does is roll her eyes. Figures someone as weird as the commander would have a fucking kink like that. Probably into biting and shit too.

Tali’s seen  _Fleet & Flotilla _more times than anyone she knows, and that’s at  _least_ twenty more times than what she’d have needed to in order to see what’s going on right in front of her helmet. The two of them are as giddy as a quarian child with a new suit when they’re around one another, though she admits that the analogy isn’t completely fair – after all, even the youngest quarian could come up with better pick-up lines than the ones Shepard and Garrus are throwing around. In the end, all Tali can do is shake her head and mutter  _bosht’ets_ under her breath and be glad her helmet’s dark enough to hide her smile.

Jacob’s one of the last to know, never guessing that there’s more between the two old friends than just their kill counts and inside jokes. But then he catches the way their hands brush close when they think no one’s looking, and Jacob grins. It figures, he thinks to himself. Only the Commander would go for an alien on Cerberus ship.


	4. "I Need You"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet for the tumblr prompt "I Need You". Shakarian

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not after everything they’d gone through to get this far. Not when they were so  _close_.

Shepard crouched over him, eyes wide and face flecked with blood. Blue blood.

His blood.

“Garrus!” she shouted, so loud it made his eyes shoot open. Funny. He didn’t remember ever closing them. “Hey, stay with me! I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” She was so beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Why hadn’t he ever told her that when he’d had the chance? He tried to now, but the words spilled out of his torn throat in broken gurgles, too wet and too useless to do anything but kill him faster.

Spirits, it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit.” She clamped a hand over his wound, trying to stop the inevitable. “Normandy, do you copy? I need an evac, right now!” Above them, the moan of a Reaper’s main gun drowned out every other sound, and Garrus knew no one had heard her desperate order. No one would come.

He blinked and stared up at her face. Counted each and every blood-stained freckle, memorized the curve of her lips and the green of her eyes. Spirits, how he loved those eyes. Loved that smile. He closed his eyes - just for a moment, just one - and he could see that smile waiting for him from across the bar, see those eyes laughing as they danced with him across the floor.

“Garrus! Garrus, wake up!” Raindrops splattered across his face, hot where they hit his hide, bitter where they touched his tongue. He wanted to tell Shepard how much he hated the rain, but he was too tired to do that now. Maybe he’d tell her later, after he’d rested a little first.

“Garrus, please, just hold on. Just _hold on_.”

He tried to open his eyes, but they’d grown so damn heavy, heavier than ever before, and all he could manage was the tiniest of cracks. Barely wide enough to see her face above him, drenched in blue and so beautiful it made him ache.

“Stay with me,” she whispered as rain fell all around them. “I need you.”

Garrus closed his eyes.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.


	5. All Curves End

Humans were such strange creatures, Garrus decided.

Soft, like salarians, but harder somehow. More jagged. Yet not nearly as bulky as krogans. (Well, not most of the time, he amended as he thought of Vega.) And they were covered with curves, just like asari. Not as much, maybe, but still more than any turian.

Shepard's neck was practically drowning in curves.

He traced a talon up and down it, marveling at the way its shape sank and rose. It reminded him of the mountains back on Palaven, the ones that had always been there, always in sight, always curving their way around the horizon. A static presence as common as the sun or the moon.

He wondered if those mountains were still there anymore.

"That tickles." Shepard murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry," he whispered back, meaning it. She hardly ever slept these days -  _I'll sleep when I'm dead -_ and his finger stilled in shame.

"S'okay." She rolled over and blinked at him. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," he said, his visor exiled to the bedside table. "Late."

She nodded with a slow blink. Her eyes drifted shut again, and Garrus thought she was almost back asleep until they slowly opened once more.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." he answered.

She blinked again, and one of her hands found its way towards his face. Her fingers brushed over his scars, the sensation warm against the numbed hide. He leaned into it and shut his eyes.

"Garrus?" she asked a minute or two later.

"Hmm?"

"What's bothering you?"

He opened his eyes, but didn't look into hers. Couldn't. She saw through him too easily, always had, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to see this. She didn't need his burdens too, not when she had so much else keeping her awake. So instead he stared at her neck again, at its curves and its hills and the way the tips of her hair brushed against it, the strands barely long enough to do even that.

He thought of the mountains on Palaven again.

"Garrus."

"I'm just…thinking about some reports."

Her thumb traced down his mandible. "That bad?"

"Yeah. That bad."

"Tell me."

Silence. Then: "We're going to lose Cipritine."

Shepard's thumb stilled. "Damn it," she whispered. " _Damn it."_

Garrus could only blink in agreement, his eyelids too heavy and too slow when he forced them back open.

"How many?"

_Too many,_ he thought. "Pre-war census had a population of over ten million."

"Damn it," Shepard whispered again.

More silence. She didn't ask him if he was okay, didn't say she how sorry she was. She just traced her fingers across his scars, giving them as much of her warmth as she could. In return, he reached out and brushed a talon through her hair, tucking a copper strand behind her ear. Then he cupped the back of her head in his hand and brought her closer until he felt the weight of her forehead against his. She wrapped her free arm around his waist, tugging him nearer. He did the same with his.

Time passed.

"Shepard?"

"Hmm?"

"I…" The smell of gun oil clung to her skin like armor, and he breathed it in deep. His talon traced down the back of her head slowly, thinking of all the nights they'd spent together over the years. First as friends, then, amazingly, as more. So much more. More than he could ever put into words, really.

He wondered how many more nights together they had left.

"…love your hair." he finished quietly.

A smile wrapped its way up her lips. "You do, huh?"

"I do," he murmured. His talon made its way back up, then he drew it down again, slower. "Is there a reason you keep it short like this? I don't think I've ever seen you wear it long."

Her index finger trailed over his tattoo. "You mean is it cultural thing, like these?" she asked. He nodded. "Not really. I've just always worn it this way, I guess. It was practical when I was younger, back when I lived on Earth. Easier to keep clean and lice-free. Made me look a boy, too, but…well, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing."

Garrus' hand stilled as grasped her meaning. She smiled softly and tucked one of her legs in between his, pulling him from his thoughts. "Now that I'm older…it just feels right, I guess." A moment passed, and then she added, "The feeling's mutual, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"I love your hair, too."

He huffed, the sound almost a laugh. "My crest?"

"Yeah, that thing. The spikes make you look dangerous. Like a rebel."

"Or a failed vigilante."

"A very  _charming_ failed vigilante."

"It's the voice, or so I'm told."

"Don't even get me started on how much I love the voice."

The laugh was real this time, even if quiet, and something loosened inside of him. He could still feel it there, could still feel it wrapping around every piece of him, but it was lighter now. More bearable. Everything was when he was with her.

He looked up, finding her eyes with his.

"There you are," she said, smiling. "Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you, too."

She shifted her forehead against his, moving closer. The tip of her nose touched his. "Palaven's not lost yet, Garrus." she said softly.

"I know," he said just as softly, and both of them heard they way his voice shuddered around the fragile words. He took in a steadying breath. "I know." he repeated, firmer this time.

Her thumb drew circles on his scars. After a moment, he turned his face into her hand.

"Thank you." he whispered into the curve of her palm, telling himself that, one day, he'd see the mountains of Palaven again. He fell asleep on that promise, and his dreams were of hills and curves that never ended, but went on and on and on…

 


End file.
